


kicks

by godsensei



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-15 15:14:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11808594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/godsensei/pseuds/godsensei
Summary: Keith flushes, embarrassed about it. So what? It’s not like there are a lot of people to find attractive in space. (It’s a lie, there are millions of beings to find attractive in space. Lance could tell you that. However, Keith doesn’t want to examine why, out of those millions, Lance is the only one that seems to fluster him the most.)Or, the one where Keith accidentally hears Lance getting his kicks and becomes very intrigued by it.





	kicks

**Author's Note:**

> got a tumblr prompt for a drabble based on the song kicks by fka twigs. that song is about self-pleasure! this is also about self-pleasure! cross-posted on my tumblr (bvcknsteve). may or may not continue this? idk, we'll see.

Keith doesn’t mean to hear it. 

 

He’s usually training during the night cycle of the Castleship. Sometimes he passes Pidge on his way to the kitchens for a glass of water, and she’s usually passed out or typing away vigorously on her computer. Like him, she doesn’t sleep much. 

 

Tonight, though, Keith had stopped his training in the middle of the night, too fatigued to keep it up. They’d just gotten back from a mission that zapped all of his energy, and though he’s still harboring some feelings of aggression, his body sometimes tells him when enough’s enough. 

 

He’s treading on light feet down the hallway towards their collective rooms when he hears it. A soft moan filtering through… Lance’s door…? 

 

Keith should keep walking. He’d lived at the Garrison long enough to understand what _ that _ sound means, and he’s not unfamiliar with the concept himself. After all, he’d spent a long time locked away in a shack out in the middle of nowhere, and now all this time out here floating in the middle of the universe. 

 

...fuck, though, if he isn’t intrigued. 

 

If asked, he would never admit that Lance is attractive, _especially_ not to Lance himself. ( _Well_ , ok, maybe he’s already moaned to Shiro about it, because sometimes Lance is Too Much™ and Keith is just trying to _live his life,_ goddamnit _.)_ Something about his cocky smirks, and his half-lidded eyes, shimmering darkly when he teases Keith, and… and, well, there are a lot of things Keith likes about how Lance looks. He’s tall and lithe, with an impressive shoulder-to-waist ratio. He’s muscular, but surprisingly soft looking when he’s not covered head-to-toe in body tight armor. Let’s see… he has… nice fingers…

 

Keith flushes, embarrassed about it. So what? It’s not like there are a lot of people to find attractive in space. (It’s a lie, there are millions of beings to find attractive in space. Lance could tell you that. However, Keith doesn’t want to examine why, out of those millions, Lance is the only one that seems to fluster him the most.)

 

Another moan sounds out, and Keith bites his lip, slipping closer to the door despite his own objections. This is  _ creepy _ of him. He’s being creepy, per usual. 

 

Still, he can hear panting, slick sounds that make his heart jump against his ribcage, and his dick fatten up against the cup of his fighter suit. He shifts quietly, rubbing his legs together to try and alleviate the feeling. It’s not hard to picture exactly what Lance’s face looks like right now, mouth open, jaw tense.

 

Lance sighs inside his quarters, and Keith can hear him reach for something, the tell-tale slide of his skin against the comforter and the grit of the beside table opening and shutting with a click. The unmistakable sound of a cap popping open makes Keith furrow his brows. Lance  _ does _ have lotions and such that Keith doesn’t, though where he procures them, Keith doesn’t know. Keith usually uses spit to jack off with. He can’t see Lance wasting product on something like this.

 

He wonders if it feels better using something else? It’s not like he’s ever had the funds to try anything different. In the desert, it had been food and water versus anything luxurious, and in the Garrison, he’d never really been comfortable masturbating except in the empty showers. Call him old-fashioned, but the thought of someone else walking in when he was that vulnerable was not conducive to relaxation. The water had been enough for him, besides. 

 

But the slick sounds from before don’t start up again-- instead, what replaces them is more of squelching sound, hard to hear at first. 

 

“Oh, fuck,” he hears Lance murmur, sucking in a stuttering breath. Keith lets his head fall back against the wall softly, trying to picture what he’s doing. Is Lance nude in there, exposing his tan skin, or does he have his hands under his pajama pants, concealing his actions? Are his eyes closed or is he watching himself? Is he doing that thing he does when he’s frustrated, his lower lip pulled beneath his teeth, leaving indentations in the plump flesh there?

 

God, Keith shouldn’t be listening. This is beyond wrong. He’s basically getting off on this, too. 

 

The squelching picks up, but then Keith starts to hear the slick sounds again, somewhat off rhythm. Wait. What the hell is Lance  _ doing  _ in there-- it’s not like… he has… oh.  _ Oh. _

 

Keith cock throbs when he figures it out, and he covers his mouth with his hand, almost groaning. Fuck, is Lance...? Is Lance fingering himself? He  _ has _ to be. The revelation has Keith pressing his hand against his groin, hard, toes curling in his boots at the image. How often does he do  _ this? _

 

He can hear Lance’s breathing picking up, little ‘ahs’ and drawn out ‘hahs’ slipping from his mouth. 

 

“Yeah,” Keith hears, “oh, fuckfuckfuck.”

 

He sounds really good, voice high, but breaking on drawn out vowels. If… if he were with  _ someone _ else, would he be that vocal? Keith can’t really picture Lance being quiet in any setting, but maybe he’d be shy about it. He’s seen Lance get embarrassed, his shoulders coming up and his face turning away, red flushing his cheeks. It’s stupid… cute.

 

“ _ Keith _ ,” Lance moans jaggedly, drawing it out like some sort of lyrical devotion, and Keith almost chokes on his own spit as he opens his eyes, backing away from the door quickly. He hadn’t even realized he’d closed his eyes. But... the door isn’t open, nor has Lance stopped panting from inside the room.

 

Keith freezes, the only thing he hears is his own heartbeat.

 

He just-- he just fucking said Keith’s name.  _ He’s thinking about Keith while he’s doing this.  _ Keith’s face starts burning, and he scrambles to get out of there, making it to his room in record time. He locks the door behind him, shucking off the paladin suit as he makes his way across the room, peeling off the last remnants by the time he’s on his bed. 

 

His mind is racing with the implications and his cock is so hard it’s dripping precum, just a shade darker than what he’s used to. He collapses onto his stomach, immediately rubbing against the sheets to alleviate himself. It’s almost painful, with each new image that filters in-- Lance laid on his back, thighs spread with his hand hidden between them, two fingers pushing into himself. One hand on his own dick, thrusting up into it and then sinking back down on his fingers. 

 

_ Saying Keith’s name.  _

 

“Ngh.” Keith rolls his hips against the mattress, picturing  _ himself  _ between those thighs, his own fingers slipping inside. Maybe Lance would smirk up at him, grinning triumphantly? Or maybe he would look at Keith impossibly softly, his stupid mouth hanging open. Would he watch Keith’s cock press into him? Would he shiver and take it greedily, shuddering out a tremulous breath? 

 

Keith wants to know. He  _ aches _ with the feeling.

 

“F-” Keith gasps, “ _ -uck _ .” He flips over onto his back, grasping himself and shoving his heels into the bed, fucking up into his hand urgently. He thinks about putting his thumb into Lance’s mouth, sees him sucking at it as Keith thrusts into him. He thinks about bending over and kissing him, licking his tongue into his warmth and tracing the sharpness of his teeth. He thinks about turning Lance over onto his hands and knees, grabbing handfuls of his cheeks and spreading them. He’d grip at his hips to get into him deeper, to make him moan louder. 

 

Lance is probably finishing up by now, brokenly moaning out Keith’s name as he comes. 

 

He was picturing Keith fucking him. 

 

Keith’s thighs tremble, toes digging into the comforter underneath him. With each deft pass of his hand, each roll of his hips, his breath hitches and a sweet pressure begins building all over. He can’t help the noises he’s making, imagining Lance, sated and happy, crawling over him and taking him into his mouth. 

 

“Jesus  _ fucking _ \--” Keith gasps, hips raised, muscles tensing and releasing as he thrusts shallowly. “Christ!”

 

Lance would be so good at sucking cock, Keith is absolutely  _ sure  _ of it. 

 

Keith gulps in bursts of air, holding his breath every few seconds as waves of pressure push him closer to the edge. He can feel it cresting over him as he imagines Lance’s blue eyes looking up at him from red, bruised knees. 

 

Keith starts groaning and doesn’t stop, releasing into his hand over and over. His abs contract with each pulse of overwhelming pleasure, leg muscles completely tense. He keeps his hand moving until he absolutely can’t anymore, dropping onto the bed. His chest heaves, his limbs twitching with residual tremors.

 

He lies there, staring at the ceiling as he comes back to himself. 

 

Well… That happened.

 

He covers his eyes with his clean hand. How the fuck is going to be able to look at Lance without thinking about this? 


End file.
